Less than two weeks ago, I stated here that I would not keep a tour blog.
Welcome to my tour blog.
Why the change of mind? First, some context. In 2005, I kept a truly confidential blog, available only to those who were e-mailed the link and the password. In 2006, I invited people to request the link and the password, asking that everyone be on the honor system: If someone else wanted in, they had to e-mail me. And, as far as I know, the honor system worked.
Still, it’s tricky being candid about a book tour. There were definitely things in the 2005 blog that I wouldn’t want to broadcast to the world, and even some things in last year’s account.
But one of the curious things about the BlogHer virtual tour — which I posted about on March 2nd — is that the writer doesn’t blog. And, as the king said in Once Upon a Mattress: I have a lot to say. Probably too much. But if you come here because you enjoy the site, you may not mind. Meanwhile if if this site functions as a bit of drive-by schandenfreude for you — c’mon, don’t we all have blogs that we visit just for the trainwreckiness of it it all? — then you’ll have plenty of things of which to disapprove.
WHAT THE DEAD KNOW will be published on March 13th. The first review, much to my surprise, appears in today’s Baltimore Sun. (Link over at www.sarahweinman.com) I first heard about it from a neighbor, who told me it was highly complimentary. How paranoid am I? I decided that my neighbor, an optimistic sort, was incapable of detecting snark, so I didn’t read it at all. A few minutes ago, I skimmed it, and I do mean skimmed, looking for the big BUT. As in, say, “well-paced BUT not particularly subtle.” My eye didn’t catch anything. Let’s leave it at that.
It’s a strange thing about reviews. I can withstand the bad ones. I’ve had some practice. (Although not quite as much as some people seem to believe. I had an encounter recently with a wonderful woman, a true supporter of my work, but it was evident from our conversation that she thinks I’ve gotten nothing but horrible reviews. I’ve actually been lucky, overall. I just tend to get my worst reviews in really high-profile places.) Increasingly, it’s the mere fact of reviews that makes me mildly insane. I feel as if I’m eavesdropping on gossip about myself, as if I’ve intruded on a confidential conversation between people who should feel free to speak their minds about me.
Meanwhile, the first tour highlight: meeting Michael Tucker at the ABA dinner I attended. You may know Tucker from “L.A. Law,” but in Baltimore he is best known as “Bagel” in DINER and TIN MEN. I introduced myself, unembarrassed to be a straight-up fan girl, and we spoke Bawlmarese together. I told him it was hard for me to speak that way and he confessed it was hard for him NOT to speak that way.
Anyway, I’ll be using this space for all sorts of tour-related trivia, but the tone will tend toward the Pollyanna-ish. If only the reviews would do the same. Once more into the fray.
I hope it all goes really well for you Laura, with neither schad nor freude. Wait, which one is the good one? I hope there’s lots of the good one. Schad roe, even… Or is it the “Freude” they all start yelling about in Ode to Joy? I am so confused… Just have a GREAT tour!!!!
They changed my work schedule so I am off Tuesday and Wednesday next week. On the plus side, that means that I can start the book as soon as I buy it; on the down side, that means that I’m working that Thursday night, so I will miss the library stop on your tour. (Booooo.) But I will see you on Saturday the 17th.
To Laura, or anyone else out there who has an opinion: when there is a less than congenial parting of the way between a reporter and a newspaper, is there a statute of limitations that has to run out before that paper can say something nice about the former employee?
Like Laura, I was waiting for the BUT. Or–has she become so successful that they must be nice or else look stupid?
Thank you for complimenting my good taste in marrying Steve Miller. And as much as I am going to miss him on his trip today and tomorrow, it means that I can stay up as late as I want and finish WHAT THE DEAD KNOW without guilt…
June,
To the Sun’s credit, they have been very good to me for a while, even before a certain editor left. The one rude review was written by someone who . . . well, didn’t like the book.
You’re the woman Nick Hornby called a hamburger! I think it’s all downhill after that.
I hope to one day at least be a french fry or a half-drunk Coke.
Well, here’s a review that you can probably stomach: I came home from work one day last week to find a copy of WHAT THE DEAD KNOW waiting for me, compliments of HarperCollins. I placed it on the kitchen table, fully intending to take it upstairs. My wife came across it on the table, opened it up, and I’ve barely seen or heard from her this weekend. She loves it.
This is a good start:
Lipman’s story, which is filled with fully realized characters and a plot brimming with suspense and, beyond the mystery, plays on larger themes of loss, tangled identities and personal missteps.
“American cheeseburger,” according to Mr. Hornby.
Of course, the thing that I’ll think about forever is that my sister remembered it as “BIG American cheeseburger.” Everybody onto the couch.
Steve, we all knew your wife had good taste when she married you!
I think being called a big american cheeseburger would clinch it for me. I could die and end it all right there, no problem. In a good way, I mean, for those of you who don’t understand my love of cheeseburger.
P.S. Lizzie — and her observations about sex in WHAT THE DEAD KNOW — will be at the center of a future tour highlight.
ha ha–being forever associated with both sex and cheeseburger is pretty good too.